Chapter Text
“Trathnona, mooove. I can’t see!”
“Madainn, hush! They’ll hear us!” Trathnona whispered furiously, her dark purple and black wings fluttering nervously as she pried the door open a little more.Their mother had told them that on no uncertain terms were they to even leave their room while she was meeting with the dark and grey courts, so naturally they had no choice but to peek in on the proceedings.
Their mother sat at the head of the table looking bright and glorious, her sky blue and gold wings nearly glowing in the firelight. Next to her was their father, though as king consort he was merely there as a formality. To their mother’s left was the king of the grey court, Trathnona couldn’t remember his name, looking like some great tree had gained sentience and walked off from its roots. To his side was a smaller form that resembled an awkward bundle of twigs with a pine cone for a head. Gossamer wings sprouted from his back, which surprised Trathnona. Unlike the dark and light fae, grey fae were not supposed to have wings. Of course she had never seen any outside of a book, so it could be that the texts were not accurate. Or perhaps royal grey fae were the exception to the rule.
“No fair! The goblin king’s son gets to go,” Pouted Trathnona, “Why don’t we?”
“Probably because he’s gotta learn how to run his kingdom someday,” Maidainn offered, craning her neck to see past Trathnona.
“So do I,” Trathnona tilted her head up stubbornly. “Mother should let me come if I am to be queen one day.”
“Doesn’t he look funny?” Giggled Maidainn.
“Who?”
“The Goblin King’s son. He’s got a pointy head.”
“I’ve never seen any being like him before,” Trathnona said, looking at him appraisingly. “I don’t think he looks funny, I think he looks interesting.” In fact, Trathnona was fascinated by all the dark and grey fae who sat at the table; they were so different from those in the light court.
“I guess. Hey, where’s the dark king? I don’t see him.” Maidainn said, peering through the crack in the door.
“I am here,” A deep voice said behind them, making the two girls jump.
“Y-your majesty, I apologize…” Trathnona stammered while Maidainn scrambled away and hid behind a nearby statuary. King Oberon towered over Trathnona, cloaked in black robes that were tipped with burnished silver. He surveyed her with eyes that glowed a dull gold in stark contrast to his dark skin. Dark was indeed the right word – it wasn’t that his coloring was deep brown or even black - but instead the light in the room seemed to bend around him as if it were reluctant to touch his skin. His hair was of the same quality, running over his shoulders and down his back like a deep and dangerous river that looked calm on the surface but hid raging waters just beneath. Black feathered wings were folded behind him, and Trathnona got the feeling that when they were fully spread they could envelope her whole with room to spare.
Without realizing she was moving she found herself taking another step back. He was terrifyingly beautiful, and she was equal parts fascinated and petrified. One part of her wanted to run to her room and never disobey her mother again, but the other part wanted to touch his skin in the same way she felt drawn to touch a flame just to see what it felt like. She had seen those with dark skin before - the light court had many such – but every skin tone was overlaid with a golden sheen that seemed to glow from the inside out; nothing like the being who stood before her now.
“You’re not supposed to be here,” an imperious voice said from behind the towering figure of Oberon. A slim girl, about the same age as Trathnona, walked around Oberon and sneered, her eight eyes narrowing as she first took in Maidainn behind the statuary before finally settling on Trathnona.
“Damhan Alla,” Oberon said sharply, and the girl flinched, retreating back behind Oberon.
The dark king turned his gaze back on Trathnona, “Go back to your room, little one, and I will not tell your mother of your disobedience. If it were up to I, you would be joining us along with my daughter and Bogach, but you must obey your mother in all things.”
Trathnona gulped, “Yes, your majesty.”
His gaze left her eyes and went to rest on her deep purple wings. His expression was shrewd and piercing, as if he had a question that he already knew the answer to but wanted to force the answer out of her all the same. Trathnona folded her wings self-consciously and bowed, grabbed Maidainn when it was clear that she wasn’t moving under her own volition and they backed away until they were around the corner. Maidainn slid down the wall and Trathnona started to pace with her hands over her mouth, eyes wide.
Maidainn looked up at her sister, worry marring her normally carefree face. “Do you really think he won’t tell?”
Trathnona was silent, the reassurances she wanted to give her sister stuck in her throat. The way he had looked at her – as though one glance was all it took to know her very soul – was vexing to say the least. Trathnona tried to tell herself that he had only looked at her like that because her wings were unique to a light fae such as herself. Her sister’s wings, which featured the sunrise colors that were her namesake, were much more typical to their race. But something about his eyes wouldn’t let her put it aside – before she had backed away she had seen an almost possessive glint in them.
“We should have listened to mother,” Trathnona finally said in a small voice, stopping her pacing to sit down next to Madainn.
“I don’t think he’ll tell,” Madainn said confidently, misinterpreting Trathnona’s unease.
“Y-yeah,” Trathnona said, not wanting to further upset her sister. “Come on, we should get back to our room.”
~*~
Their mother was dying.
No one knew how, or why, but one thing was clear: it was time for Trathnona to begin readying herself for the coronation that would follow the inevitable tragedy.
Years had passed since that day in her youth where she had spied on the meeting, and that single solitary experience was all she had when it came to court politics. Oh, of course she had the knowledge. She could name every person in each court, their position, their stances, what they had done right or wrong. She knew which ones she could trust (very little) and which ones to avoid. She knew all the policies and alliances and strategies; but putting all that book knowledge to actual practical use was something else entirely.
“Stop fidgeting,” Maidann said, “You’ll muss up all my hard work.”
“I can’t help it. I’m nervous,” Trathnona said, clenching her hands in her lap.
“It’s just a silly ball.”
“Yeah, just a silly ball where everyone will be looking at me and judging whether or not they think I’m worthy to be queen.”
“It doesn’t matter what they think, because you’ll be queen anyway.”
“It’s not that simple, Maidann,” Trathnona groaned. “If I’m perceived as weak, the title of queen will be a title only. You need support to rule, you need the people to believe in you.”
“But you ARE strong. Remember your spar with Adair? You could probably give King Oberon himself a run for his money,” Maidann said, folding an errant strand of Trathnona’s hair back into the hairstyle.
Trathnona snorted, “I doubt that.”
“No, really! You’re not going to be just any queen – you’ll be a warrior queen just like mother. If anyone dares to challenge you they will suffer at your hand.”
Trathnona knew Maidann was trying her best, so she gave her a reassuring smile. The truth was, Trathnona wasn’t worried about physical strength. Physically she could beat most any other being in
combat, but mentally she knew she wasn’t prepared for the strain of ruling a kingdom.
Her mother was a good ruler because she was strong in every aspect, but merciful when it was appropriate. She had fought on the battleground hundreds of years ago when King Oberon had tried to absorb the light court into his own, and she had forged the peace that still reigned to this day. She was so strong that Trathnona couldn’t understand how she could be losing a battle from within herself.
Trathnona stood up and Maidann fretted for a bit with her hair before finally backing off. She couldn’t start thinking about this again, not if she wanted to keep up a calm and confident façade.
“How do I look?” Trathnona asked.
“Imposingly beautiful. Look,” Maidann nudged Trathnona over to the mirror.
She could barely recognize the woman who looked back at her. Her eyes were shadowed dark, but the deep purple tapered into hues of mauve and rose towards the outer edges, like sunset on the edge of twilight. Her long hair was swept up in curls and tendrils, licking the side of her face as if it were flames or an ocean wave crashing against the shore. Her dress was long and hugged her hips before flaring out and flowing behind her. She looked…like her mother…only a darker version. She tucked her wings behind herself self-consciously.
“Why does it have to be dancing? Of all the traditions we had to choose, why dancing? Why not dueling?” Trathnona whined, sitting back down on the seat.
“Dueling? Really?” Maidann crinkled her nose, “What fun would that be?”
“You can’t judge since you’ve never tried it,” Trathnona pointed out.
Maidann shrugged, “Eh.”
“At least I can fight with grace, when I dance I’m always tripping all over myself,” Trathnona said, burying her face in her hands.
Maidann grabbed her wrists and shook them, “Don’t touch the face you’ll smudge it! Anyway, you’ll do fine! Dancing is kind of like dueling; only don’t hit your partner."
"But what if they deserve it?" Trathnona said with a small smile.
Maidainn shook her finger at Trathnona in an attempt to look serious, "Not unless they've compromised your honor. Now come on, we’re going to be late. Are you ready?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be,” Trathnona said with a sigh.
~*~
Trathnona was still anxious when she entered the ballroom, but to her relief she managed to keep her face placid and confidant as she greeted the important members of the three courts. Despite her nerves she still was captivated by the variations of creatures that populated the dark and grey courts. The creatures of the light court all looked much the same with few disparities, but it was not so for the other two courts. From the small, frog like creatures to the large bird like creatures that walked on two legs with arms hiding amongst their winged feathers, the variations were endless.
Soon her fears were quashed by all the new visual information and before she knew it she was enjoying herself. If only she could convince her sister to stop flirting with every eligible man in the light court then she could completely relax. Even her mother seemed to be enjoying herself despite her ill health, as she sat above them all and surveyed the proceedings with satisfaction. She met her mother’s gaze and she gave Trathnona the slightest of nods and an encouraging smile. Trathnona was doing well; while her mother was a loving parent she was not one to give her approval or praise unless it was earned. Trathnona didn’t have to worry; she could do this after all. Even so she was beginning to feel the strain of having to take in so much in such little time, so she decided to step out to the balcony for a moment to get a breath of fresh air.
Night was just beginning to fall, a slip of pink and purple light on the horizon all that remained of the autumn sun. Trathnona leaned on the balcony railing and breathed deep, enjoying the scent of exotic flowers on the air. The palace where the ball took place every autumn was a sort of meeting ground, a place of neutrality, so all around the premises were blooming gardens with the most beautiful selections from all three courts.
The predominant scent was light and delicate, reminding of spring. It was oddly familiar, but she couldn't quite place the scent. She leaned down to see yellow blooms directly below the balcony and wondered what they could be.
“Night-blooming primrose. Normally they only bloom in the spring, but the magic of this place keeps them blooming all year long."
Trathnona clutched the rail to keep from falling over in shock and slowly turned around. King Oberon stood behind her in all his glory, looking the same as that day so many years before. He held one of the flowers out to her, a tiny yellow spot of color against his dusky skin.
Hesitantly Trathnona reached forward and took the flower from him, her fingers brushing against his long enough to feel that his skin was smooth and cool, reminding her of the feel of a night’s breeze on a warm summer’s day. Again she felt a surge of curiosity that very nearly overcame her terror. Nearly. It was all she could do to make sure her fingers didn’t tremble as she cupped the flower in her hands, but she knew if she was to be queen she would have to overcome such feelings. She would be dealing with the dark fae king on a regular basis and it would not do to be petrified in his presence.
“I didn’t recognize the scent, but I know of it,” Trathnona said quietly, thankful that her voice didn’t shake.
“Indeed?” Oberon prompted. He took a step closer to Trathnona and she just barely caught herself from taking a step back.
“It is a flower of the dark fae court, and yet it can only grow on the border of our lands. It needs the shaded sun as much as it needs the night to thrive.”
“Very good.” He took another step forward and Trathnona had to clamp her legs together in an effort not to move. She couldn’t appear weak, most of all to the dark fae king.
“But did you know that the petals contain a hidden magic that only a few can obtain without destroying it in the process? A potion can be made with this magic, one of the most potent in all the realms. I cannot do it myself, but fortunately I have connections with one who can.”
Trathnona’s heart was hammering in her chest, “O-Oh?” She swore silently. She knew the calm façade she had managed to keep up so far was slipping, and there was nothing she could do about it. He was a hair’s breadth away from her now, and this time she was sure; his gaze on her was undoubtedly possessive. She had to get away from him, but she didn’t know how. If she were to call for help and she was wrong about his intent it would be an insult to his honor and could start a war. If his intentions were threatening the result could still be the same as he could play the insulted party as an excuse to start a war. Was that what he was doing? If so it was more important now than ever to appear strong and unfazed. Trathnona’s mind raced as she searched for a polite way to extricate herself in the quickest possible manner.
King Oberon plucked the flower from her hand and brought it up to his lips, whispering something in a language unknown to her. The flower drew up on itself before slowly blooming again, revealing a tiny vial of glowing pink fluid.
He contemplated the vial and uncapped it, “I don’t know who your father was, but he is not the man who sits by your mother’s side. Your mother would surely deny it to the end of time but your father was a dark fae. I can see it in your coloring; I can sense it in your blood.”
Indignation banished her terror and Trathnona narrowed her eyes, “You dare…”
Oberon continued, unperturbed, “This presents an opportunity for me that before now hadn’t existed. I could never take a pure blooded light fae as my queen, my subjects would never accept it. But you…” He smiled, the expression chilling Trathnona’s blood, “You are the bridge I’ve been searching for all these centuries. A royal light fae, next in line to be queen, with the blood of the dark fae running through her veins. It is perfect.”
Trathnona ducked and coiled her legs to ready herself to strike, but before she could he threw the vial at her face and the sweet scent that had been so delicate before hit her and now it was sickeningly sweet, overpowering all her senses completely. She couldn’t breathe, she couldn’t think. She thought she was about to pass out when a firm hand gripped her chin and forced it upward, and her eyes fluttered open.
“Your mother would never allow it, but she will soon be dead. I suppose I could have taken the time to seduce you, but whatever love I could engender within you would never be strong enough to make you submit to my will and I cannot have my queen subverting my wishes.”
“Of course not,” Trathnona said as she gazed up into his eyes, “Whatever you wish shall be done, my love.”
~*~
Trathnona had expected the king of the dark fae to be frightening, and he certainly was. But as she danced across the moon-lit ballroom held firmly in his grasp she found herself feeling something she had not expected; desire. Her senses were alight as they took him in; her skin hummed with sensation. His scent, earthy and deep filled her nose, his hair flowed around them like a dark river, the whisper of it on her bare arms raising goosebumps on her flesh.
It was hard for her to imagine that this time a few days ago she had been dreading her first autumn ball.
“Though our marriage will be one of convenience, I must admit that the moment I laid eyes on you I desired you,” He said softly into her ear, the deep rumble of his voice sending shivers down her spine. “I will relish taking you to my bed.”
“I cannot wait, my love,” Trathnona whispered back, glancing surreptitiously up to her mother who was watching their dancing forms with barely concealed disapproval. It was custom for princesses and princes to dance with as many important members of the courts as possible, but the dark fae king had dominated her time on the dance floor since he met her on the balcony. Trathnona knew that her mother wouldn’t approve, but that didn’t matter. He was the king of the dark fae, and she would soon be queen. Nothing could keep her from her love.
Of course it could not last. When the song ended Oberon pulled her away from him.
“I’m afraid we must part ways for a time, I have business to attend to.”
“Must you?”
“Yes. You will dance with others; you cannot let your love for me get in the way of your courtly duties. Dance, and I will soon return.”
Trathnona watched him go, his robes swirling behind him, and a terrible aching began. It was as if there were a string attached to her insides and the other end was tied to him, each step he took away from her pulling her more and more apart. She had to distract herself; her love had said to dance, so she would. She had no desire to dance with anyone but him, but she knew it would be okay because he told her to.
“May I?” A voice said behind her, and when she turned she found herself face to face with the grey king’s son, Bogach. He had grown out of his awkward stage, now long limbed and graceful. He was beautiful in an odd way, and Trathnona couldn’t help but to be again fascinated with his form.
She shook her head slightly. She didn’t love Bogach, she loved Oberon. Despite the fact that he was making her uncomfortable, she knew to refuse Bogach would be unwise if she were to keep with tradition.
“Of course,” Trathnona took his hand and he swept her out onto the dance floor.
“I’m honestly bored by all this dancing. What about you?” Bogach said after a moment.
Trathnona barely contained a bark of laughter from his sudden and blunt question. “Actually, I was just telling my sister earlier that I wished dueling was the tradition rather than dancing.”
Bogach smiled at her then, and it wasn’t like the fake smiles that she had been seeing on the members of the court all day, but one that reached his eyes and lit up his face. “What do you say to shaking things up a bit? Give everyone a little…show?”
Trathnona couldn’t help but grin at the idea, but hesitated. Would her love be upset if she did something other than what he told her to do? Even with the distraction she still yearned for Oberon to return, and the idea of upsetting him was highly unpleasant. Still, the lure of dueling a new partner was strong, and she knew Oberon wouldn’t want her to refuse and risk insulting the grey court’s high prince.
“Is that a challenge? Because if so, then I accept,” Trathnona waved her arm and her sword, always a call away, appeared in her hand. Bogach did the same, his weapon a long staff with piece of amber weaved into the top.
Trathnona made pointed eye contact with her mother to assure her that this was not a serious fight and that all was well. Her mother nodded with a small smile; Trathnona knew she would approve. Her mother was the one who taught her after all, and Trathnona noticed with amusement that she was already looking about the room to see how the other would react, glad to be a part of the ruse.
“Your insult shall not stand, princess," Bogach said in a commanding voice as he began to circle her.
“Nor shall yours,” Trathnona said, and with that she lunged towards him. He easily dodged out of the way and attempted to land a blow to her back but she whirled around and her sword met his staff with a loud crash. Enchanted wood, Trathnona realized, just as strong as the forged metal of her sword. They jumped apart again and this time Bogach took the offensive, feinting a hit to her legs and subsequently managing to land a blow to her arm.
Gasps of horror filled the room and Trathnona couldn’t hide the smirk spreading across her face. Bogach winked at her and she nearly snickered before gathering her attention again. She ran at him and jumped up as if she intended to land a blow to his head, but at the last second she dropped, slid between his legs, and came up behind him. This time she landed a hit on his side and he cried out in mock pain to the horror of the crowd around them.
Their fight continued on like that, and slowly the crowd caught on, going from shock to delight as they watched, cheering on one side or another. It wasn’t long before they were both exhausted, their weapons too heavy in their grasps to continue, so they played to the crowd, their weapons crisscrossed against each other as they leaned into one another for balance.
“Ready to give up?” Huffed Trathnona.
“Never,” Bogach panted. His eyes were alight with exertion and pleasure, and Trathnona felt something warm growing inside of her at the sight of it. It grew larger inside of her until it seemed to suffuse her entire being, and suddenly her thoughts of Oberon, which had been at the back of her mind the entire fight, disappeared.
She felt like there was something important she had to remember about Oberon, something he had said, but it was like sifting sands between her fingers. It was too hard to remember, so it must not be important.
She smiled at Bogach and he blushed. For a moment it felt as if is were just the two of them in the room, and Trathnona wanted nothing more than the lean just a bit further and…but no, that wouldn’t be appropriate. Not here, not now. From the look in Bogach’s eyes, his mind was in the same place, and he drew back.
“Well, I must concede. You are the greater fighter here,” He said with a gracious bow.
“Why thank you, I must agree,” Trathnona said with a wink that promised a rematch in private where they wouldn’t have to hold back for the sake of the crowd. She bowed in turn and they both banished their weapons at the same time, the crowd bursting into cheers and hoots.
Trathnona looked up at her mother again and a secret smile passed between the two of them that told her her mother knew what had passed between her and Bogach, the chemistry between them, and that she approved. If Bogach chose to court her, and she hoped he would, her mother would endorse the union. Trathnona was relieved; not minutes before she had been infatuated with King Oberon of all beings, and it surely would have been a battle if Trathnona chose him. Thinking back on it, she couldn't understand what had come over her; the dark fae king was frightening, not alluring. But no matter, she didn’t think she had done too much to over encourage him – just a few dances more than is usual, but then he was the king of his realm and as such required more attention.
Trathnona straightened and shook her arms out, releasing the tension of the fight.
“Would you, ahm,” Bogach coughed nervously, his confidence seeming to melt away now that they were no longer fighting, “Would you care to go for a flight around the castle? To stretch our wings?”
Trathnona grinned, “Lead on."
~*~
They stayed out longer than they should have; longer than what was considered proper. Trathnona knew she should have returned earlier but she couldn’t help it – she was enthralled with Bogach. Never before had she found such a kindred spirit. Talking with him was like talking with someone she had known her whole life, and as they flew they quickly fell into an easy but animated conversation. She wanted to go back out there right now, but she knew better. Her courtly duties called.
A slim, eight eyed woman walked up to Bogach as he landed and slipped an arm around his, “Bogach you were gone so long I was worried you got lost.”
Trathnona vaguely recognized her after all these years; the dark fae king’s daughter. From the look she was giving Trathnona right now it seemed she had no more respect for her now than she did on that day they first met. If anything she looked at her with more disdain than before.
“I don’t believe we’ve been formally introduced,” she said coldly. “Damhan Alla, high princess of the dark fae.” She gave a tiny bow, and Trathnona gave one back.
“Trathnona, high princess of the light fae.”
“Ah, that’s why I do not know you; your mother did not wish to include you in court proceedings when you were young. Bogach and I attended every meeting. We practically grew up together.”
Trathnona’s eyes fell to Damhan Alla’s hand clutching Bogach’s arm possessively. Her meaning was clear: I claimed him long ago, he’s mine. But from the uncomfortable look in Bogach’s eyes it looked like the feeling was one-sided. Trathnona gave her a cool smile.
“Then you must be like siblings.”
“Yes!” Bogach said with relief, clinging onto the rope Trathnona had thrown to him gratefully, “For all intents and purposes. We learned much together.”
“I envy you; I always wished to be a part of things when I was a child but my mother was a tad overprotective. I suppose I have a lot of catching up to do.”
Damhan Alla narrowed her eyes, “Indeed.”
Bog cleared his throat, “Well, ah, we had all better get back to it. Our duties await.”
Damhan Alla slipped her arm from Bog’s smoothly, “Of course. Bogach, Trathnona,” She bowed to them each in turn but Trathnona didn’t miss the poisonous look she directed at her before gracefully walking away.
As Trathnona watched her retreating form she knew there would be some fallout from the day’s events, but she couldn’t bring herself to care as she watched Bogach. Whatever happened, it was worth it because she met him.
~*~
Plum glared at Oberon from her cage. Though she was terrified, she didn’t want to go to her death cowering in fear.
“Why didn’t it work?” He said slowly, carefully, his rage a cold burn just beneath the surface.
“I told you; every potion has a weakness. Besides, it was only a matter of time before she saw your true nature and that would have broken the spell just as easily as meeting her true love.”
“It’s imperfect. I know I can fix it,” Damhan Alla said impetuously. “Father, give me this task. I will make a potion that can override true love.”
“She was supposed to be MINE.” Oberon ground out, ignoring Damhan Alla.
“I don’t know what you’re so upset about; your plan will still go on as you set out. The light fae will discover the poison used to kill the Queen is cultivated from a plant that grows only in the Goblin
kingdom. The two courts will go to war, and you will pick up the pieces,” Plum spat bitterly, “I don’t know why you had to drag me into this at all.”
Oberon began to pace, clearly agitated now, “They will pay. They will suffer for this. A century of war isn’t enough punishment,” He looked up, “The Leannan mallacht. That would do nicely for my purposes.”
Plum drew back, “No. No, I won’t do it.” She tried to flit away when Oberon opened her cage door, but he easily grabbed her.
“Perhaps a thousand years living amongst humans will change their minds. While we sleep they will be reborn over and over again, always apart, always alone. Damhan Alla, you shall see to it that they never find each other, and you shall have plenty of time to perfect the potion.”
Damhan Alla paled, “But…but to deny the great sleep…”
“You will accomplish the task I have set before you, my daughter, or suffer my wrath.”
Damhan Alla straightened, “I’ll do it to take back what is mine. Bogach WILL be mine,” She said imperiously, though her face was still fearful.
Oberon turned back to Plum, “You will do this, Plum. You will do this because otherwise I will murder them both and their deaths will be on your head. If I cannot have her, no one shall.”
Plum drooped and looked away as she rose her hand. A bloom of pink light grew in front of her and Oberon weaved his dark magic around it, forming a lattice of curling smoke that slowly tightened around the light until it was a small black orb that glowed pink.
“She will be mine. The kingdoms, the people, and her. I will rule them all, heart and soul.”